


A Many-Splendored Thing

by shimmerwings



Category: Dirk Gently's Holistic Detective Agency (TV 2016)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Alternate Universe - College/University, Alternate Universe - Harry Potter Setting, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Alternate Universe - Zombie Apocalypse, Domestic Fluff, Frija Dengdamor's terrible parenting, Gen, Happy Ending, Inktober 2019, Light Angst, M/M, Mentions of Dirk/Todd, Mentions of Tina/Farah, Tumblr Prompt, Wendimoor
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-12-01
Updated: 2020-01-05
Packaged: 2021-02-26 01:48:19
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 20
Words: 7,184
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21625576
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/shimmerwings/pseuds/shimmerwings
Summary: A series of prompt-fics that center on Panto Trost and Silas Dengdamor -- Together and separately, but mostly together.
Relationships: Silas Dengdamor/Prince Panto Trost
Comments: 29
Kudos: 16





	1. Inktober Prompt: Ring

**Author's Note:**

> Just discovered this show and these boys well after they'd been canceled, much to my despair. On the plus side, the lack of new material pushed me to actually complete a piece of fanfic for the first time in a good ten years. And not just one piece of fanfic, oh no, I had to trip and fall into multiple prompt lists and just spew cutesy Panto/Silas fluff everywhere. But it's been fun, so hopefully someone else out there will get a kick out of it too.
> 
> Prompts were taken from 2019's Inktober list and the 50 Ways to Kiss Someone list floating around Tumblr. This will be a round-up of all the shorter pieces, posted a handful at a time to avoid dumping them all at once. A few somewhat longer pieces based on these prompts will be posted separately.
> 
> Tags will be updated as I add new stories.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A long-awaited moment.

The sun was just fading from view on Silas's balcony when he felt a familiar presence sidle up behind him. He straightened from his lean against the rail as strong arms encircled his waist.

“It's lovely, isn't it?” Silas sighed, leaning back into his beloved's embrace.

Panto hummed a quiet agreement. “A view I never tire of,” he said. Silas fought back a flush as he felt Panto's gaze focused on his face instead of the sunset. “Although, I can think of one thing to improve it.”

Silas lifted his eyebrows, twisting to give Panto an unimpressed look. “Oh?”

Panto grinned, ever mischievous when they were in private. With gentle hands that belied his critical words, he eased the glove from Silas's left hand. Silas shivered – a little from the cool air against his exposed skin, but mostly from the sensation of Panto's calloused fingers softly stroking his. After a moment, Panto lifted their hands so that the pink polish on Silas's ring finger was clearly visible.

“As much as this token has meant to me, my love,” Panto murmured against his ear, “I believe it's time for me to replace it with what was meant to be there all along.” As Silas's heart began to thump erratically, Panto slid a carved wooden ring on his finger that glowed a deep, polished red-brown against his lighter brown skin. “It's iron-oak. It's tradition to use the heart of the tree, but I knew the thought of a tree being hewn down for the sake of a ring would break your heart, so only the smallest of limbs was sacrificed.”

Unable to contain the joy bubbling up inside him, Silas spun in Panto's embrace, throwing his arms around his neck. “I love it,” he said with a laugh. “I love you. No one else has ever known me the way you do.”

“I intend to make a lifetime of studying you,” Panto vowed, before sealing his words with a kiss.


	2. Ways to Kiss Someone: Good Morning

The tinny echo of crying through the monitor dragged Panto from his too-few hours of sleep. Scraping gritty eyelids open, he rolled out of bed and half-walked, half-stumbled down the hall to the nursery. As he pushed open the door, he paused as he registered the sight in front of him.

Apparently at some point in the night Silas had taken his turn to check the baby...and then simply never made it back to bed. He was sitting in the rocking chair beside the crib, but had slumped sideways so that he was half propped against the crib, one hand between the bars where he'd fallen asleep while comforting their daughter.

Panto snuck further into the room, glancing down at their exhausting bundle of joy. One tiny hand was still clasped gently in Silas's, while the other had begun to flail as she scrunched up her face and wailed. For the millionth time since they brought her home, Panto felt the overwhelming surge of affection and gratitude that stopped his breath and made his eyes prickle. Then Silas began to stir at the rising volume of cries and Panto stepped forward, scooping her from the crib. She quieted momentarily, making small grumbly noises against his chest.

Shifting her to one arm, Panto reached out to cup the side of Silas's sleepy face.

“Timizzit?” Silas muttered groggily, even as he instinctively leaned into Panto's palm.

“Morning,” Panto whispered. “Why don't you go back to bed for a little?”

Groaning, Silas pulled himself out of the chair. But instead of re-tracing Panto's stumbling route back down the hall, Silas fetched up clumsily against Panto's side. With eyes still half-closed, he bussed a kiss against the crown of their daughter's downy head, then held up his face expectantly until Panto huffed a laugh and leaned down to give him a soft, close-mouthed kiss. He could feel Silas smile against his lips.

“Now it's a good morning,” he said as he pulled back, and Panto couldn't help but agree.


	3. Ways to Kiss Someone:  Goodnight

Sleep had almost pulled him under when something tugged at his awareness. He floundered for a moment, trying to place the sensation, when it repeated: A brush of lips against the bare skin of his shoulder blade. Panto smiled and pulled the hand he had clasped in his own up to his lips.

_Goodnight_ , he kissed. Another kiss: _Goodnight._

Sleep pulled him gently under once more.


	4. Inktober Prompt:  Bait

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Panto gains a crown of many colors.

“You know I'll do anything for you, darling,” Panto said. “But how long, exactly, do you need me to sit like this?”

Silas suppressed a grin behind his notebook. Panto was seated on a blanket in the center of the small, sun-filled forest clearing. His boots were off and his legs crossed at the ankles, while he leaned back on his elbows. Overall, he would have been the picture of relaxation, if it weren't for the dozen butterflies that had made themselves at home in his bright pink hair. Their brilliant, multi-hued wings glittered like jewels in the sunlight as they constantly opened and closed. Silas could see the lines of concentration around Panto's mouth as his naturally active beloved tried to stay still for his sake. His heart swelled with the fondness that was never far from reach when they were together.

“Just a moment longer, my love,” he said reassuringly. “I've almost got everything I need written down.”

Panto gave an exaggerated sigh, although it was ruined by his obvious care not to dislodge any of his colorful hangers-on. “If only I knew our picnic was just an excuse to use me as butterfly bait, I may have gone skittersnipe hunting with Litzibitz after all.”

“I would never!” Silas gasped, even as he finished the last of his observations with a flourish of his pen. He carefully laid it on the ground with the pages open so the ink could finish drying. “The fact that Rainbow Butterflies are particularly attracted to the color pink was new information to me – although, admittedly, not a complete surprise.”

Panto lifted an eyebrow as Silas knelt down beside him and began to gently encourage the butterflies to take to the air. “Why not a surprise?”

“Well, after all,” Silas said, followed by a brush of his lips against Panto's cheek, “they're not the only thing attracted to the color pink.”


	5. Ways to Kiss Someone:  Where it Hurts

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> An slightly alternate take on canon where they got to be friends as kids (although Frija, apparently, remained a terrible mother).

Panto stared stoically at the hole at the knee of his pants where a bloody scrape clearly showed, although tears were visible at the corners of his eyes. Silas felt his own hot tears come more freely as he plopped down next to his friend.

“I'm sorry,” he hiccuped. “I shouldn't have asked you to get the stupid gumdrop for me just because I couldn't reach it. I should've tried harder. It's my fault you're hurt.”

Panto blew a raspberry at his words. “Don't be silly, dum-dum. I wanted to get it because you're my friend. I just lost my balance, that's all.”

Silas sniffled. “But -”

“Butts are to sit in seats, not be used in speech,” Panto said in a high-pitched voice that really sounded nothing like Silas's stuffy tutor. Nevertheless, he dissolved into giggles as Panto intended. His best friend's laughter joined his own. By the time they stopped laughing, Silas felt a little better, but there was still a hot, squirmy feeling of guilt in stomach. It felt like when his mother made fun of him for being bad at sword practice. An idea for how to make it better sprung up at that thought.

Silas scooted until he was right next to Panto. His friend tilted his head, bright pink hair falling across his face. It had gotten longer since the last time they'd got to play together. Silas pursed his lips together before darting in and pressing a kiss to Panto's knee. When he sat back up again, Panto was blinking at him like a hoot-owl. His face was turning pink like his hair.

“It's just a kiss to make it better,” Silas explained shyly. “I heard someone say it once and I thought it sounded nice. Did it work?”

Panto looked down at his knee, then back up at Silas. “Yes, I think so. I do feel a little better. Litzi's done it for me before, but she usually kisses the side of my head and says something like 'Kisses cure everything but stupid, so try not to be stupid, dodo.' Yours was nicer.”

Silas flushed with the compliment, but then he frowned. “Maybe I have to kiss your head for it to work all the way.”

“Um, okay,” Panto said, sounding a little funny. Silas ignored it, leaning over and pressing a kiss to Panto's cheek, which was hot under his lips.

“Did it work?” he asked hopefully as he settled back.

Panto nodded, unusually quiet. He cleared his throat, then said, “I think that definitely did it.” He brightened and turned to Silas. “Hey, you were sad, I should give you a kiss to make _you_ feel better.”

Before Silas could say that he didn't feel sad anymore, Panto had leaned in to give him a slightly tacky kiss on the cheek. It was weird because it did make him feel better, even though he wasn't hurt.

“Oh,” he said in surprise. “It does work.”

Panto grinned smugly. “Well, now we know for the future. Now help me think of a better way to get those gumdrops, smarty-pants.”


	6. Inktober Prompt: Build

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The true test of a relationship.

Panto threw up his hands in frustration as Silas dissolved into a giggling lump on the ground. “I don't understand,” he said, brushing back hair that had fallen in his face. “We're both reasonably intelligent men. You study things much more complicated than this. I can keep track of multiple combatants while still thinking several moves ahead. How is it that this is the thing that defeats us?”

Silas made a sympathetic noise while collapsing backwards to lay starfished amongst the detritus of their project. He stretched out one foot to poke Panto companionably in the ankle with his toe. The corners of Panto's lips reluctantly turned up.

“They do say that couples should try to assemble a piece of Ikea furniture to see how their conflict resolution is,” Silas said through a smile. His voice was as warm as his brown eyes as he looked up at Panto. “At least nobody's thrown anything yet. I'm pretty sure Todd and Dirk broke up three times before they got that new bed put together.”

Panto laughed as he remembered the histrionic texts their friends had sent to the group chat that day. He sank down to sit cross-legged next to his prone fiance. He grabbed Silas's left hand and fiddled with his engagement ring – his new favorite thing to do – as he stared at the screws and dowels scattered across the threadbare carpet of their first apartment together.

“Penny for your thoughts?”

“I'm thinking,” Panto said slowly, but with deep determination, “that I refuse to let an unfinished Hemnes bookshelf be a metaphor for our relationship.”

Silas chuckled, tugging on their joined hands to place a kiss against Panto's knuckles. “No, we can't have that. Do you have a new game plan then, darling?”

Panto nodded firmly and pushed to his feet with renewed zeal. Silas willingly allowed himself to be pulled up after him. With a wild grin, Panto grabbed Silas by the face and planted a smacking kiss on his lips for luck. “First,” he said as pulled away, “we count those goddamn screws again.”


	7. Ways to Kiss Someone:  Where it Doesn't Hurt

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> It's possible sword-fighting is not the only athletic activity Silas doesn't excel at.

“Ugh,” Silas moaned as they finally made it back to their hotel room and he collapsed onto the floral patterned bedspread. Every part of his body seemed to throb at different intensities. “Tell me again why I let you convince me that rock-climbing would be a fun way to spend the day?”

Panto chuckled as he closed the door behind them and set their day packs to the side. He made his way over and sat gingerly on the edge of the bed next to Silas. Silas muttered grumpily as the pressure on the mattress caused him to tilt in the direction, a few new aches making themselves known.

“You let me convince you because you love me and wanted to make me happy,” Panto said reasonably.

Silas squinted skeptically. “I suppose that must have been it.”

Panto brushed a piece of hair out of his eyes and Silas sighed, letting his eyelids sink shut. “I admit, I'm not sure what I was thinking, my sweet. If I'd known how miserable it would make you, I would have found a better activity for us.”

Silas heaved out a long-suffering sigh. Now that he was back in the cool of the air-conditioning and sitting still for a moment, he was starting to feel a little more fair-minded. “You were probably thinking that most able-bodied adults could handle the super easy, beginner level climbing route.”

“Yes, exactly, so what was I thinking?” Panto said with a suppressed laugh in his voice.

“Hey, now, let's not push it, buster.”

“I could always kiss it better?” There was an audible eyebrow waggle in the suggestion. Silas snorted.

“I think my whole body hurts. And no – ” he said swiftly, “that was not an offer.” He peeled open one eye to give Panto a stern look. “I think it would be easier if you kissed the spots that don't hurt.”

Panto tilted his head contemplatively. “I could do that. Where shall I start?” He reached out and ever-so-gently brushed his thumb against Silas's left eyebrow. “How about here?”

Silas contemplated the pain level of his eyebrow. “Okay,” he said finally.

With butterfly delicateness, Panto pressed a kiss to the arch of his brow. He leaned back a few inches. “The other?”

Silas nodded.

Another delicate kiss, this time lingering just a little longer. Despite everything, Silas felt himself blushing. Ugh, why did he have to be married to such a disgustingly charming man?

Oh, right, the love thing. Well, he could live with that.


	8. Ways to Kiss Someone: On a Falling Tear

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Panto just has a lot of feelings, okay?

Panto fought back a lump in his throat as Dirk babbled out his vows to Todd during their small, backyard wedding. He bit his lip as Farah and Tina danced a surprisingly elegant first dance together, both clad in their dress uniforms. He faked a cough and excused himself from the reception hall as Litzibitz gleefully shoved cake into her new wife's face. The air in the hallway was blessedly cool after the warmth of all the guests jostling together for a better view.

He wasn't surprised when the doors quietly opened and closed behind him, a pair of arms sliding around his waist as Silas settled against his back.

Silas propped his chin on Panto's shoulder. “I love that you cry at weddings,” he murmured.

Panto laughed wetly. “Thank goodness, otherwise you'd have to divorce me with all the weddings we attend.”

“What can I say, we set the trend,” Silas said lightly, before leaning up to kiss a happy tear off Panto's cheek. “Let's go get some cake before Amanda's boys eat it all again.”


	9. Inktober Prompt: Enchanted

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The boys in a fantasy world of a different flavor.

Looking back, there was nothing unusual leading up to the events at the bookshop that would have told Silas his world was about change forever. Indeed, everything about the day had been perfectly mundane. He'd rolled out of bed just in time to make it to class to turn in his communications paper, nodded his way through all the mind-numbing business classes his mother insisted he take, and returned to his apartment for lunch to find that his roommates had left every plate dirty in the sink _again._ By the time he went in for his evening shift at the bookstore just off campus, his mind was firmly on how much homework he'd be able to cram in between customers and certainly not on...anything unusual.

When the strange, blustery wind blew up a couple hours into his shift, Silas shrugged and went out to bring in the outside display of discount books so they wouldn't get ruined. There hadn't been any customers for the last half hour anyway, so maybe he'd get lucky and the storm would keep others away so he could get through a whole set of calc problems. He'd just settled back down behind the register when the front door swung open with a crash and the room filled with prickling static and the taste of ozone.

Silas yelped as a man flung himself through the door and swung himself wildly around as if looking for something. From the back he almost looked like he could be a typical college student, with pink hair and a pack slung over one shoulder, but his boots curled up strangely at the toes and the rest of his clothing seemed just slightly off. Then he whirled to face the register and Silas nearly swallowed his tongue.

The guy was gorgeous, but that paled in comparison to the way he was backlit with a strange, fey light from the street that made it almost seem as if blue points of lightning danced along the edges of his clothing. Then his eyes made contact with Silas's and for a moment everything seemed to go still, while inside he felt the peculiar sensation of something clicking into place. Like a door with a key locking it shut. Or open.

Then the man strode forward and the moment was shattered.

“Ah, book-keep,” he said grandiosely. “Tell me, what books do you have on enchantments, curse-breaking, and prophecy?”

And with that, Silas knew nothing would ever be the same.


	10. Inktober Prompt: Frail

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A younger Silas makes his first case for the fighting to stop.

“How fickle a child's beliefs; how frail their judgment.” Lady Frija stood atop the raised Council dais today, one hand on the low back of its single seat, head tilted wryly as she addressed the advisors present for the day's discussions. Silas did his best to keep his back straight and his face unmoved by the rush of hot humiliation– like his mother had taught him– even as her inner circle smirked and sent disdainful glances his way. He clasped his hands behind his back to hide their trembling.

“Be fair, Frija,” Lord Delmar said from his seat at her right hand. The look he gave Silas was full of patronizing pity, which was almost worse than the outright ridicule. “You did ask the boy what his opinion on the latest Trost salvo was.”

His mother scoffed, one hand waving his objection away. “You're right, but I did expect to hear an _informed_ opinion, not just...rumor and superstition.”

Silas longed to object, but practice had taught him to bite his tongue.

The elderly-but-sharp Zaida Ojala, of his father's line, stirred herself to peer more closely at him. “I'm curious,” she said in her thin, reedy voice, “where did you come about this opinion?”

Silas took a measured breath, grateful for Wygar's stolid presence a step behind him, knowing that what he was about to say would further anger his mother. “My opinion that we should end our feud with the Trosts comes from seeing the never-ending costs and casualties that are a result of the fighting,” he said, unable to keep the pleading tone out of his voice. There were several sharp murmurs in response, so he hurried on before they could cut him off. “But most recently I have heard the new prophecy from Wakti Wapnasi that speaks of –”

“Prophecy!” his mother spat. Her face had darkened as he spoke, the silver circlet on her brow standing out against the flushed skin. Silas shut his mouth with a snap. “You speak of prophecy to me now? Where was prophecy to prevent your father's death? Where was prophecy when the Trosts attacked our mines?”

Breath coming too fast, Silas dropped his gaze to his boots, but he could still feel the angry brand of his mother's glare. He tried to scrape up what was left of his conviction from the churning knot of shame quickly forming in his stomach.

“The foretellings of Wakti Wapnasi have always been accurate,” he tried, but he knew immediately it came out too weakly– as weak as she always accused him of being.

There was a ringing moment of frigid silence before his mother turned her back to him. “I thought that you were ready to begin taking a role with this Council,” she said dismissively, “but I see that I was wrong. Go see the Swordsmaster for further lessons. Perhaps he will give you further insight into the necessities of war.”

Silas sketched a shaky bow as he took his leave. Perhaps someday he could convince his mother that he was more than the fickle, fragile child she saw him as – but to do that, first he would have to convince himself.


	11. Ways to Kiss Someone: To Shut Them Up

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> There's more than one right way to get the point across.

“You see, Silas, that I consider us very good friends, and – oh, and of course, I would never want to imply that would change – but I was thinking the other day – and for a while, really – maybe a few months at least – that there could, perhaps be more of a, uh, non-friendship aspect to our relationship? And, oh my god, that sounds like I mean there should be time when we're not friends for some reason, that's not what I mean, when I said non-friendship I really meant more like –”

Silas finally had mercy on Panto's stuttering, rambling speech and put it out of its misery by the simple expediency of leaning over and kissing the words off his lips. It wasn't the best kiss. Panto kept trying to talk until his brain finally caught up, and the angle wasn't the best, but. It also _was_ sort of the best kiss. Because it was Panto, his best friend for ages, who was now putting his arms around Silas and pulling him closer, tilting his head until it was just...the best. Silas sighed into the kiss.

When the kiss ended, Silas pulled back to look at Panto's gobsmacked face and couldn't help but laugh fondly.

“That was what you were trying to say, right?” he teased.

Panto chuckled good-naturedly and pulled Silas back towards himself. “Something like that.”


	12. Ways to Kiss Someone: Desperately

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Love in the zombiepocalypse.

The horde was much closer behind them than he would have liked when their bedraggled group squeezed through the outer gates and shot the bolts home. Moments later, bodies hit the door in mindless chase.

_Slam. Slam-slam. Slam._

Panto lowered his pack to the ground with shaky hands as Todd bent double over his knees, wheezing for air. Bigby Badoo turned in short circles, both hands running through her hair, muttering curses under her breath. It really had been too close this time; they'd almost lost Todd under a crush of biters just a mile from their base. It was basically a miracle they'd pulled him out before the walking corpses had taken a chunk from him.

The guards who let them in were waiting warily a few feet away, with guns still drawn. From above, Panto could just make out the muffled crack of sniper shots, and the sounds of thumping at the door ceased. Heavy silence fell over the group.

Panto put his hands in the air for routine inspection as Bigby followed suit. It took Todd another minute to catch his breath, but finally he put his hands in the air. Two of the guards came forward at that point to give them a cursory look-over for any obvious bites. There'd be a more thorough check later, after they'd showered off all the blood and rotting bits of flesh, before they would truly feel that they'd made it home.

“All clear,” Martin said as he finished his inspection. The tension in the room immediately ratcheted down several notches. “Welcome back, boys and gals.”

The rest of the cleaning and inspection process went by in a blur. People came and took the supplies they'd managed to find. Others took their dirty clothes away to be sanitized. Their current doctor– who was actually a veterinary technician– was there at some point, or she must have been, because then new clothes were being shoved in his arms to change into. The whole time, all he could think about was how close they'd come to not making it back home today.

When they were finally allowed into the main compound, several cries of relief immediately went up from the small crowd assembled as their loved ones finally saw that they'd made it back safely. All they would have known was that a scavenging group had made it in, but not the status of the members. Having been on the other end of that wait, he knew it was even more terrible than actually being out in the field, surrounded by biters.

Panto scanned the crowd. A smile broke across his face as a lean, brown figure shot through the crowd and into his opened arms. Calloused hands grabbed his face and yanked him closer as Silas pulled him into a desperate kiss. All his aches and discomforts, the tremors of adrenaline let-down, all of that fell away for an endless moment as he clutched his lover closer.

When Silas finally pulled away, tears were streaming down his face even though he was smiling. “The spotters saw someone go down,” he explained shakily, “but that's all they could tell us.”

Panto's heart clenched. “I'm sorry.”

Silas shook his head, scrubbing one hand over his cheeks impatiently. “Just keep coming home,” he said fiercely.

Pulling Silas back towards him, Panto whispered against his lips, “As long as you're here, nothing could stop me.”


	13. Inktober Prompt: Snow

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> All's fair in love and war.

The snowball, in retrospect, may have been a bad idea. Yes, there had been the moment of satisfaction and glee as the snow broke into a soft cloud of white against Panto's pink hair, his face frozen into a look of complete shock. And yes, Panto might have maybe, ever-so-slightly, been asking for it when he'd started, okay, maybe not _boasting,_ exactly, but certainly _excessively lingering_ on his successes at the winter festival snow games...

Right. The snowball had absolutely been worth it. Silas reminded himself of this as the snow soaked through the back of his tunic and trousers as he flailed wildly, attempting ineffectively to dislodge himself and Panto from the snowdrift he'd been tackled into. He was hampered somewhat by needing to stop and breathe between gusts of laughter.

“Traitor!” Panto cried. He'd pinned Silas between his knees and was currently packing snow into a ball shape.

“No, I give!” Silas objected as his belly laughs died down into small hiccups of laughter. Panto paused with the snowball partially raised, ever the gentleman.

More fool him.

With a loud war cry, Silas pushed Panto's hands so that the snowball burst, showering them both with quickly melting snow. Panto sputtered as it spattered against his face. Silas clutched his aching belly as new giggles enfolded him.

Shaking his head ruefully as he looked down at his damp front, Panto also chuckled. “Someday I'll learn not to underestimate your sneakiness, my love.”

“Now what fun would that be?” Silas said with a crooked smile. He reached up to tenderly brush his thumb against the cold-flushed skin of Panto's cheek. “If I promise to do no more sneaking today, will you let me up? I'd like to get warm, and I think you might be able to help me with that.”


	14. Ways to Kiss Someone: In Grief

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Grief is complicated.
> 
> CW: Hints of child abuse and mention of panic attacks.

Panto woke sometime in the night to the faint sounds of sniffling. Silently, he rolled to his other side, wrapping his arms around Silas where he'd curled up miserably around a pillow.

“I'm sorry,” Silas hiccuped. “I didn't mean to wake you.”

“Hush, darling,” Panto said scratchily. “Of course I couldn't leave you to cry on your own.”

This seemed to push Silas into another bout of weeping. “It's so stupid,” he said eventually, angrily wiping his face. “She hurt me, hurt Farson. She hated you. I was happier once we left. So why does it hurt so much?”

“Because she was your mother, despite everything,” Panto said. He rubbed Silas's chest soothingly, the way he sometimes did when Silas had panic attacks. “Because maybe part of you hoped that eventually she would change her mind, but now that opportunity is gone.”

Silas shuddered in his arms, turning to face him.

“Doesn't that make me sick, for wanting that?” he whispered tearfully.

“Never, my love,” Panto assured. He leaned in to gently kiss salt-damp lips. “It means you have an enormous heart, with an endless capacity for love.

Silas curled into him with a sigh, and Panto vowed to himself to do everything he could to protect the tender heart of the man in his arms.


	15. Inktober Prompt: Overgrown

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A dreamy moment in time.

Light slanted through the arching bows of the overgrown hedge maze, lighting up dancing motes of dust and the quick-darting bodies of dragonflies, limning heavy, flower-filled vines with golden radiance. The air was dense, tangible in his chest as he breathed in the heady perfume. Birds twittered, cheeped, and most of all sang, sang, sang. Everything felt soft, like a dream.

Silas looked ahead, saw Panto smiling back at him, urging him onward with a hand around his wrist. He followed. How could he not?

Branches twisted overhead, almost forming a tunnel along certain stretches of the maze, then breaking open again to spill light like a waterfall onto the ground. The grass grew high in these spots, reaching toward the glimpse of blue sky. They waded through it, blades eddying around their waists, their arms reaching ahead like swimmers parting the water. A fluttermouse darted across the toe of his boot, and Silas laughed, startled and delighted.

The closer they got to Panto's unknown destination, the faster he pulled them, until he tripped into a laughing run, breathless with a secret about to be shared. Silas watched the sun-dappled pink of his hair, the pink of his cheeks and lips, a more exotic flower than any other here. He hardly noticed when they stopped, until Panto turned him to face the center of the maze.

“Look, my sweet,” he whispered, breath warm against his ear.

No boughs had encroached overhead here, leaving the square to bloom in generous swathes of sunlight, run riot with color. Red roses climbed, purple wisteria dripped, shy yellow jessamine peeped between. Trailing bellflower and flowering thyme carpeted the ground in gentle waves. In the center, a grandmotherly gumdrop willow spread her skirts, branches cascading with clusters of sticky-sweet candy. And above, the birds. They danced in a complex pattern of weaving and flitting, jeweled feathers gleaming.

Silas whirled to face Panto, pulling him into a kiss steeped with awestruck tears.

Strong arms cradled him, drawing them as close together as possible. One kiss turned to many, and they lay down among the sweet grass, delicate petals giving way to their bodies as they came together, time gliding past in a dreamy haze. Silas wound his arms around Panto and his heart sang as the birds did: _My love, my love, my love._


	16. Ways to Kiss Someone: As Encouragement

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Panto is a Hogwarts Triwizard Champion. Because every fandom needs a little Harry Potter in it.

Panto was alone in the tent now, the Beauxbatons participant having just left to face his Norwegian Ridgeback. He could hear the students chanting in the stands, their feet stomping against whatever stadium had been built for the first task, but it felt strangely quiet in the tent with no one pacing, no more reporters snapping photos. There was only the miniature dragon in his pocket for company.

The screech of the Ridgeback joined the noise outside, indicating that the next round had officially begun. Panto bounced on the balls of his feet, swinging his arms back and forth to keep limber. There was no telling how quickly the match would be over, so he didn't want to get too relaxed.

He was just completing a set of toe-touches, when an appreciative whistle came from behind him. Panto jerked upright, face flaming, as he turned to face the intruder. He immediately relaxed when he saw the mischievous face of his boyfriend peeking through the folds of the tent.

“Get inside!” he hissed, motioning frantically.

Silas popped inside with alacrity, peeking back outside to make sure he hadn't been spotted. Panto would be lying to himself if he said he was unhappy to see Silas, but he was more than a little surprised. The Hufflepuff student was usually not much for breaking rules, but here he was – sneaking in to see him when no one was supposed to talk to the contestants beforehand.

Once he was assured the coast was clear, Silas hurried across the tent to throw himself in Panto's arms.

“Dragons! I'm both terrified for your life and exhilarated beyond belief right now,” Silas said, eyes bright as his fingers smoothed the front of Panto's Gryffindor-colored Champion's robes. He looked up with a sheepish expression. “I might have panicked slightly when I saw them and convinced Bart to make a distraction so I could sneak past McGonagall.”

Panto laughed as he pulled Silas in to place a kiss on his forehead. “I'm glad you came, even though it put you at risk of McGonagall's wrath. It's more unnerving than I expected to sit here just listening to what's happening. It's too bad I can't also use Bart as a distraction during my turn. The dragon wouldn't stand a chance.”

“You're going to be amazing,” Silas said immediately, his brown eyes looking into Panto's earnestly. “I've seen you master dueling techniques and defensive magic well beyond the capabilities of most of our class. And I've quizzed you through enough Care of Magical Creatures to know you've got your dragon knowledge down. You know how my brain gets going sometimes, but I have no doubt that you'll be great.”

Tension he hadn't even realized he'd been carrying melted away at Silas's heartfelt words. Gentle hands framed his face and Panto let himself sink into the reassuring kiss. As they parted, he suddenly remembered the miniature in his pocket.

“Oh, you'll like this!” he said, as he cradled the petite dragon in his palm. Silas leaned in to examine it with large, fascinated eyes.

“A Chinese Fireball,” he breathed as tiny nostrils let out a puff of fire. “It's so life-like. They even got all the individual spikes in the fringe.” His head popped up in sudden realization. “Does that mean that's what you'll be going up against?”

Panto nodded. “But don't worry, I've already decided on a defense.”

“What is it?”

“As you know, Fireballs are the species of dragon most tolerant of their own kind. So I'm going to make myself seem like one of them,” Panto said with a grin.

He closed his eyes and let the familiar sensation of shifting wash over him. He knew his usual fall of pink hair was changing to a golden, spiky mane. His skin was turning a brilliant scarlet. When he opened his eyes, his vision was distorted by the short muzzle that was now between his eyes. He shook his head, and everything snapped back to his default appearance. Being a Metamorphmagus never stopped being cool.

“What did you think?”

“Brilliant!” Silas exclaimed, throwing his arms around Panto again. “I hope those other Champions are ready to lose, because they don't stand a chance against you.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Having pink hair is a requirement of all metamorphmagi. Obviously.


	17. Inktober Prompt: Legend

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Panto has a fanboy moment.

“Your uncle...is Wygar Oak?” Panto tore at his hair, before falling back onto his bed dramatically. Silas laughed from where sat at Panto's desk chair, homework spread across his lap.

“Yes?” he said. “I guess I thought you knew that already, since you're into all that...fighting stuff.”

Panto whined. “'Fighting stuff'?” He pulled a pillow over his face. Then he abruptly pulled it back off and sat up. “Wygar Oak is a _legend_ in boxing. I'm honestly questioning how much you really even love me if you didn't tell me immediately. Has it all been a lie? Have you just been using me for a place to get away from your annoying roommate this whole time?

Silas wiggled his hand back and forth. “Maybe a little.” He ducked, grinning wickedly, as the pillow flew towards his head. “If it makes you feel better, I'm sure the next time he's in town he'll want to come personally threaten you against breaking my heart.”

“Do you really think so?” Panto asked, sounding much too excited about this prospect.

“You know,” Silas said, as he finished the final problem and snapped his book shut. “Most people would be intimidated to have a _legend in boxing_ threaten to break their arms.”

“Psssh.” Panto waved his hand in the air. “I have no intention of breaking your heart, therefore I am entirely safe from retribution.”

“Aww, that's actually sort of sweet,” Silas said as he hopped on the bed next to Panto. Panto immediately put an arm around him, cuddling him close in the reflexive way that he had. Silas felt himself melt into the embrace. “You know, given the right incentive, I could probably be convinced to put in a good word.”

Panto grinned. “Challenge accepted.”


	18. Ways to Kiss Someone:  Lazily

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> They've earned the right to sleep in for once.

The sun had just begun to peek its head above the horizon when Silas stirred and began to rise. Before he could get more than one leg over the edge of the bed, a muscular arm slipped around his waist and tugged.

“What was that, dear?” Silas laughed, as something was mumbled into a pillow.

Panto sighed as he lifted his head. “Don't go,” he pouted.

Silas felt his heart melt at the sight of rumpled hair and a pillow-creased cheek. It was a sight he'd only had the chance to glimpse a handful of times over the years they'd been together. Still, the morning chorus of the birds tugged at him to come and begin his day.

“Aren't you usually up and training before the dawn?” he asked.

“Yes,” Panto said, even as he sank his head back onto the pillow. “And tomorrow will see me up at that sorry time again. But we have spent the last week creating truces, and the week before that I spent in another world. Today,” he declared mulishly, “I wish to be lazy.”

Silas suppressed a smile. He knew it wasn't in his love's nature to truly be lazy, but it seemed he did not share Silas's natural affinity for the early morning hours. However, as he let the warmth of the tussled bedding seep into him and watched the gentle rise and fall of Panto's chest, he decided that perhaps one lazy morning wouldn't hurt.

He surprised himself with a yawn.

“Maybe just a few hours more,” he agreed, turning to slip back into Panto's arms. Panto's resulting smile was equal parts smug and sleepy. Silas leaned in to kiss it off his face, but even as he did he felt his eyelids grow heavy.

“Mmhmm,” Panto hummed, smudging another kiss against the corner of his mouth. “Love you,” he murmured, and Silas fell asleep with a smile.


	19. Ways to Kiss Someone:  To Distract

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A happy surprise.

Panto had just taken a moment to catch his breath and check his messages at the front of the restaurant when he heard a sound that sent chills down his spine.

“Panto!”

Panto whirled. “Silas!” he said in completely unfeigned shock. “You're here early.”

His sweet, thankfully oblivious boyfriend didn't seem to notice his discomfiture. He beamed, coming up to Panto to accept the hug that, despite his surprise, Panto was more than happy to bestow. The subtle scent of his cologne filled Panto's senses as he let himself sink into the embrace.

Several yards behind Silas's back, Farson stood frozen in the process of carrying the birthday cake back to the room they'd reserved for the party. Luckily, Silas hadn't looked that direction when he'd come in or they'd already be sunk. Panto made an urgent face in Farson's direction, which seemed to spur him back into action. He began moving as quickly as he could towards the back, but he was slowed down by the cumbersome weight of the cake – enough to feed most of their friends and family.

At that moment, Silas pulled back from the hug and Panto schooled his face back into a more appropriate smile.

“You're early too,” Silas said with a laugh.

“Yes, I just got here a minute ago,” Panto said, hoping that his inability to lie would not be too obvious this time.

“Well, that worked out perfectly,” Silas said happily. “I'll just go talk to the hostess...”

He began to turn, towards where Farson was still in plain view. To make matters worse, Dirk had just popped out of the room with a handful of balloons in tow.

Panto panicked. “Wait!” he said. Silas turned back to him, brows beginning to draw together in confusion. Using every ounce of charm he could summon, Panto reached out to draw Silas back towards him, one hand going up to smooth a non-existent wrinkle in his shirt. “Can't I get a kiss from the birthday boy?”

“What, you didn't get enough this morning?” Silas said with a wry grin. Luckily, he didn't seem to object to another, drifting closer to press their lips together. Panto darted a look to the side, shoulders relaxing with relief when he saw the coast was clear. With an internal smile, he allowed himself to anticipate the reaction Silas would have, now that the party would truly be a surprise.


	20. Inktober Prompt: Misfit

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The start of a beautiful friendship.

A small, sullen figure sat huddled against the playground fence, scraped knees pulled up against her chest. Panto watched her from across the four-square court. He knew none of the other kids liked the new girl, especially since this morning. She talked funny, her hair was messy like she never brushed it, and she wasn't afraid of anyone, not even the bigger kids.

“Panto!” He looked over his shoulder and saw Billy waving a hand at him, a soccer ball in the other hand. “Come be on my team!”

Panto looked back at the weird girl and made up his mind.

“No, thanks,” he said politely. “I'm gonna go over here.”

Before the others could say anything else, he ran over to where Bart was sitting. When he stood in front of her, his shadow falling at her feet, she finally looked up.

“What do you want?” she asked. Her face was scrunched up like she was ready to fight again.

“I want to play,” Panto said. He held out a hand like he'd seen his mom and dad do. “I'm Panto Trost. You're Bart, right?”

Bart blinked at his hand until he dropped it back to his side. She looked down and poked a finger through the hole in the knee of her pants. “Yeah, I'm Bart,” she said in a low voice. “Aren't you afraid of me? I kicked that jerk earlier.”

“I'm not afraid of anything,” Panto declared. “And I think what you did was good. He wouldn't leave Jessica alone and the teacher wouldn't listen.”

Bart looked back up at him. “Really?” she asked hopefully. “You really want to play with me?”

Panto smiled. “Yeah! Do you like to play swords?”

Bart scrambled to her feet, a big grin spreading across her face. “I love it! I think we're gonna be best friends, Panto.”

Panto thought she might be right.


End file.
